Routines
by still-lilies
Summary: Germany loves order and planning, routines and predictability- and then there is the unexpected that he has to accept, too.


_This was written for the LJ community shotwithstars._

* * *

Ludwig likes order. He likes going along with the flow of the world like he is supposed to, with fighting and war, diplomacy, meetings, calm and level discussions, and lives a life with no ultimate goal. Ever since he was born, he had been following a plan that leads nowhere, following Gilbert and knowing only what's in front of him and nothing but a vague idea of what will happen farther, as Gilbert told him when he asked, but hadn't said enough.

_  
(It was only much later, when he became Germany, completely, had he realized what _he _wants, but even then, he leads a life with a vague, fait resemblance of a goal and maybe they all do)_

Ludwig plans. His plans are tomorrow, next second, next hours, next minutes.

Ludwig likes routines. Expected things are simple, understood, and make him feel at home, if there was ever something like that for him.

He used to like distance and formality too, until he realized how much of a masquerade that everyone followed it was. Politeness and fake smiles (_Not as a fake and chilling as Ivan's, but fake) _and niceness and the _pretending to be human when we're fucking not._

-

He meets Ivan at the bar. Unexpected meeting no longer come to surprise him, and Ludwig had trained himself to know that there are things that won't come in a specific time, things outside a plan and order.

These things come all the time. He does not like them, but there are quite a few things in the world he doesn't like.

Ivan doesn't change, and that is good. (Ludwig does not like changes, because changes mean difference, changes mean- _they mean-) _He is pale and his purple eyes as cold as and colder than his skin, his smile a perfect, mocking imitation of one, as always.

A glass of wine, a drink, and then he speak. He does not say 'Good to see you here', or the formal, friendly, lying, 'What brings you hear today, my friend?', but his tone is still formal as he only lets his guard down a little- he's not quite drunk, but enough to skip the friendly formalities.

(Even when he's not formal, Ivan lies. And lies. Because Ludwig sees, and sees _something _in his lifeless eyes, and he sees it so clearly that not even Ivan is sure what is truth and what is a lie anymore. In fact, maybe he no longer believes that his mask, sweet and childlike, is his true self.)

Ivan's voice is not as cold as his eyes- it's the voice of a child, a voice that does not belong in this body, ('_and it shows, doesn't it? Something's not right. Something is wrong. With my growth. With myself.') _that face and words-

"-Ah, but everything is quite alright and we'll surely work out things in the end, and that is a lovely environment I have, lovely indeed, and how the _weather _is wonderful and the air is so _clean—" Lies. Lies. Lies. _"—And, ah, Germany, your boss is doing a truly wonderful job , the way he set things so clear- sometimes," He _lies again, _relaxing himself on the chair, "You just see how wonderful the world is-"_(More lies, and the smile is fake with warmth. )_"Don't you agree?"

And Ludwig wants to shout, _'No, I don't, fuck, Russia, don't you see what's happening to your country? And my boss- if anything, his death would be the damn best but I just _can't _oppose him and they'll never forgive me for participating it this,' _But he does not, for not even next to Russia, half-drunk, and so relaxed, letting loose, slowly, of the formality, can he be honest.

-

But Feliciano is there.

And Feliciano is _different, _different from the world he had known in every shape or form. His is filled with warmth everywhere, his hands and his cheeks and the jaw line _(Which he allows Ludwig to feel and stroke so freely), _cheerful, joyous, filled with endless love that he offers everyone and gives with so much enthusiasm (_Especially, especially to Ludwig, everything is especially for Germany- and god, how he longs to call him by name-)._

Feliciano is honest, trusting, everything that Ludwig never had. Feliciano is unpredictable, an unexpected turn, he is nothing like Ludwig's life, and now, Ludwig realizes, that he is not quite as himself without Feliciano to be everything he is not.

Feliciano is a change, a difference, and one that Ludwig is endlessly happy for, a good one.

_-_


End file.
